Stay at home. This is the new warning being issued to my suburb.
I’m typing away on a beautiful autumn day here in Melbourne. The sun is out, the sky is blue and the temperature is nudging toward a perfect 25.
Dare I say it, it’s almost beach weather. It would be a stunning day for lazing about at the beach except that my local council has today closed all the beaches in the City of Kingston. I happen to live in a beachside suburb of Melbourne. In fact, both Parkdale and Mentone beaches are within walking distance of my house. Despite the close proximity, I have a small confession to make, I rarely wander down to the sand and water. As a lifelong Melbournian, Melbourne and beach have never quite synchronised, as they do for Sydney. Melbourne should be about food and culture, enjoyed under gloomy skies and drizzly rain, not this pseudo subtropical lifestyle for living in Byron Bay and Bondi.
Melbournians are as poor at doing maths as our northern neighbours. Only a day earlier we tut-tutted the masses in Bondi for flouting the new social distancing rules, but then St Kilda beach revealed that we are just as stupid.
Speaking of Bondi, last night we discovered that Melbournians are as poor at doing maths as our northern neighbours. Only a day earlier we tut-tutted the masses in Bondi for flouting the new social distancing rules, but then St Kilda beach revealed that we are just as stupid.
The warning coming to us beachside homemakers has become, Stay Home.
The new limitations being brought to bear on our lives are a challenge for many. We don’t like our freedoms being curbed. Like the Law of Moses, we read a prohibition and subconsciously begin to plot how we can break it.
In Australia, we have lived the dream. We have maximised pleasure and autonomy. Melbourne is regularly voted the most liveable city in the world—and with good reason. But what are we discovering? All this is fleeting. The good life is not certain.
The book of Ecclesiastes should become required reading for this season. We would do well to listen to the wise person and in their pursuit for meaning.
“I said to myself, “Come now, I will test you with pleasure to find out what is good.” But that also proved to be meaningless. “Laughter,” I said, “is madness. And what does pleasure accomplish?” I tried cheering myself with wine, and embracing folly—my mind still guiding me with wisdom. I wanted to see what was good for people to do under the heavens during the few days of their lives.
I undertook great projects: I built houses for myself and planted vineyards. I made gardens and parks and planted all kinds of fruit trees in them. I made reservoirs to water groves of flourishing trees. I bought male and female slaves and had other slaves who were born in my house. I also owned more herds and flocks than anyone in Jerusalem before me. I amassed silver and gold for myself, and the treasure of kings and provinces. I acquired male and female singers, and a harem[a] as well—the delights of a man’s heart. I became greater by far than anyone in Jerusalem before me. In all this my wisdom stayed with me.
I denied myself nothing my eyes desired;
I refused my heart no pleasure.
My heart took delight in all my labor,
and this was the reward for all my toil.
Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done
and what I had toiled to achieve,
everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind;
nothing was gained under the sun.”
The COVID-19 crisis will eventually subside and a new normalcy will settle into our lives. We will return to the beaches and to the footy. We’ll once again hang out at the cafe and pub, and splurge on shopping and holidays. These can be good things to enjoy, but will we learn the lessons that are now being forced upon us? How will we understand life’s meaning? Will we return to all the extras and scoff them down in a frenzied attempt to make up for lost time; or will we discern that contentment and happiness can be had without them?
Will we learn the lessons that are now being forced upon us? Will we return to all the extras and scoff them down in a frenzied attempt to make up for lost time; or will we discern that contentment and happiness can be had without them?
Here is a simple word of advice: don’t waste your stay at home. This forced home-stay presents us with a unique opportunity. We could, by God’s grace, learn the answers to the biggest and most important of questions.
Accompanying these social closures are some very real dangers; we can anticipate growing social distancing and loneliness. Authorities have good reason to be fearful about increased domestic abuse in our homes. We need to be conscious of these awful realities and to combat them.
Without diminishing the negative, there are also enormous benefits and possibilities to be seized at this time. Here are a few:
- We can spend more time with our children
- We can rediscover the long lost art of creative thinking
- We can reevaluate the big questions of life
- We have the time to form healthy spiritual disciplines: regular prayers and Bible reading
- We can catch up on sleep
- We can develop intentional habits for looking out for friends and neighbours
- We can learn how to enjoy and be content with the simple things
How are you planning to maximise your home stay?
First published at murraycampbell.net
